Fix You

Most of the time, I'm a problem-solver. You know the friend that you love but can never just sit there and let you complain about how much your life sucks without them telling you why it sucks and what they think you need to do to fix all your problems?

That's me. I'm a fixer.

The problem is, I can't fix myself. I used to be able to. I used to be able to sit back, objectively look at myself in the mirror and give myself a to-do list: "step 1 + step 2 + step 3 = problem solved." I used to spend hours and hours taking personality tests, reading self-help books, and "researching" my way out of all of my self-diagnosed "issues." Now, no matter how hard I try, I can't. Or won't.

I'm not entirely sure when or how this happened. Maybe I've been like this for a while and have just been so numb for the past year that I haven't noticed and had no need to try to fix myself. Maybe it's been so easy to pour all my energy into fixing other people that I forgot myself in the process. All I know is, I'm starting to feel again, and my heart is going into it kicking and screaming.

Feeling frightens me, and it didn't used to. I used to take such comfort in my emotions. They were my best friends, allowing me to escape from confusing reality into a world that made sense to me.

But when I finally allowed someone into my heart and my emotional world, for all the wonder and joy and passion and ecstatic happiness it brought, it also hurt. Sometimes, a lot. All of a sudden, I was vulnerable. Naked. Unprotected. And the more times I was hurt, the more I consciously or unconsciously put part of my soul to sleep. Now, it feels like there is a wall around most of my heart, except I don't remember building it.

Now, so much has happened to force certain parts of me out of hibernation that I have begun to realize just how much of me has been sidelined. And it scares the crap out of me.

What scares me more, though, is that instead of feeling my way through this mess, I'll tuck those last little parts of my heart away and shoot them so full of anesthesia that they may never recover.

Is it possible to experience all the depth and breadth of human emotion without simultaneously destroying that very essence of what makes us human? Or do we only have the capacity to feel so much at a time before reaching a critical mass of emotion, forcing some of our cylinders to stop spinning so the other parts can keep functioning?

A to-do list would be nice right about now.


Fix You
Coldplay (X&Y)

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

When the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

High up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
If you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Would You Have Stopped?

If a world-class musician were dressed like a street performer and playing in a subway station on your way to work, would the beauty and brilliance of the music transcend the surroundings?

Would you even notice?

Or would you - like almost all of the 1,000+ people that passed Joshua Bell playing his Stradivarius violin in the L'Enfant Square metro station that morning - walk by without so much as a glance of appreciation?

This article absolutely mesmerized me. Very rarely does one find such a poetic and disturbing philosophic exposé on music, beauty, art and modern life in the Sunday paper.

Have we become so jaded and numb that we no longer appreciate beauty, art, music... life?

For our sake, I hope not.

(You can listen to the full audio of Joshua Bell's performance on Washingtonpost.com. It is breathtakingly beautiful.)

Good, But Not Great

I got to meet Josh Groban last night. It was cool.

The concert was good (not great). The music was beautiful. He is extremely talented, but the show was poorly produced. It seemed very awkward and amateurish compared to his previous shows. The worst part was the strange video images on the background. There's a fairly universal rule in stage production: the sets and lights and effects should complement and support the performance, not distract from it. I found myself distracted and confused trying to figure out what in the world I was looking at and why it was on the screen. I thought it was unfortunate, since he is so talented and the music was so beautiful, that I missed a good third of the show by having my attention pulled away from the performers.

The highlight of the show was, once again, Lucia Micarelli. She is amazingly talented. I fell in love with her at the first Josh Groban concert I attended in San Diego where she completely stole she show with her rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody. Josh has since added another beautiful young woman playing a stringed instrument in Collette the cellist [30 minutes of Googling and I can't find her last name... arrgh!]. She was poised and passionate, and the perfect complement to Lucia's wild enthusiasm.

All in all, it was a lovely evening. Rob and I did the meet and greet, and Dave got to come at the last minute (to be Rob's hot date). Brian liked when Josh got on the drums at the end of the show and soloed.

Final analysis: I did not find myself being moved as I was at his Closer concert, but I was entertained.